


Permanence

by langsdelijn



Category: (Long Track) Speed Skating RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Gen, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Other, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:15:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/langsdelijn/pseuds/langsdelijn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There you go, thinking when you can't afford it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permanence

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so I changed the title. I was never happy with it, but I'd always felt that a better title would only come with a continuation/sequel, which I can now be fairly certain there won't be.
> 
> Originally written for [31_days](http://31-days.livejournal.com/) and posted [here](http://langs-de-lijn.livejournal.com/9944.html).

Fuck. It’s never gonna go away.  
  
Never.  
  
Ever.  
  
 _Neverevernever._  
  
Fuck. It’ll be there. Always. All the time. Everywhere.  
  
—’d Help if you could stop thinking about it. Just for a moment. _Stopstopstopstop._ That won’t help either. Fuck.  
  
Can’t run; can’t hide. (Ha, hide. Nonono, no hiding anywhere in your future.)  
  
Not in your thoughts, either. Too busy to even take a fucking break to sort them out. _This is supposed to be where you go to hide._ Maybe try to lock it all up in a dark corner of your mind somewhere. _Again._ It might work. _This time._ No use talking to anyone. If they’d even understand or listen or whatever. _Believe you._ Yeah, right.  
  
Even if they do; then what? Then it’s out and it’ll get out and it’ll get in the press and it’ll all be worse. (But how long will people keep buying I’m Fine™? If they stop? Fuck.)  
  
Fuck.  
  
No time, no time, no time. You’ll be damned if this—if this makes you give up your chances at the prizes. You can’t step out but that also means you can’t get away. Not yet— _maybe never; no don’t think that_ —and you can’t just.  
  
Actually, why the fuck can’t you? Go to the police? Get the bastards arrested? (Hey, you know a bunch of cops! That’s just sure to go over well!) _It’ll get out, out, out. That’s why. Oh, yeah. Fuck._  
  
Can’t face facts; can’t run away; can’t do anything—fucking NO, you never think like this. _Didn’t do anything. To—didn’t do anything. Nothing. Well done!_  
  
In any other situation—ha, like this is comparable to anything else—this’d get you fired up and give you wings. Oh, hey, so you skated a world record, what got into you?  
  
Hahaha, funny you should ask.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Fuck.  
  
 _Fuckfuckfuck._  
  
Why won’t it just. go. away.  
  
Jesus.  
  
Nothing is fucking helping and your biggest outlet is suffering and godfuckingdamnit, smashing up the hotel room like you really, really fucking want to do is only going to draw attention and it’ll come out and fuck it all.  
  
Yeah. Out of all things that really fucking suck about this? (And, boy, do a lot of things about this REALLY FUCKING SUCK.) Your confidence and your self-control are shot to all hell and those? You could really fucking use those right now. Desperately—no, Jesus this is never you. (Had you mentioned fuck? Probably not enough.) You skip right past desperation and barrel into anger and lose yourself in speed and competition.  
  
Except. Except you haven’t been able to get there. Haven’t been able to get lost.  
  
You’re not as fast and not as good _and why did they have to take that on top of everything—fuck no shutup, shut up, shut up_.  
  
You know they’ll start to catch on soon. Wonder why. _It’ll all get out but it can’t and you won’t let it. Ha, there you go thinking you have any control over anything._ There you go, thinking, thinking, THINKING when you can’t afford it.  
  
Fuck.


End file.
